


Be My Girl, I’ll Be Your Man

by Mysterycheerio



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Awesome Michelle Jones, Ballet Dancer Peter Parker, Books, Children, Children of Characters, Christmas Fluff, Dancer Peter Parker, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Nicknames, Oaths & Vows, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings, michelle and perter have a wedding and two kids and yes this counts as a crimis fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterycheerio/pseuds/Mysterycheerio
Summary: Michelle and Peter have known each other for a very long time...Dancer AU, with wedding, and kids!"Darling, just hold my hand,Be my girl I'll be your man,I see my future in your eyes."
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker & Original Character(s), Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Be My Girl, I’ll Be Your Man

**Author's Note:**

> wowee guys. hi. i know its been a hot minute since i posted something, but here. sadly, this is as good as a Christmas fic you're going to get, cause im really not feeling the Christmas spirit, due to everything that's going on, as well as some things going on in my personal life that is really painful, especially around Christmas time.
> 
> slight trigger warnings for nightmares, which, in this context is a symptom of ptsd, talk about death in relation to the nightmare, but its brief.

_I am made of bullets, shrapnel._

_You are made of solar flares and soft lips._

_Other people could love you, I know._

_But now, other people will have to get through me._

_\- My love should wear a warning sign, damn right i remember you. {E.J}_

_-_

Bullets. Shrapnel.

That’s exactly what he is. His entire being is made up of jagged, unrefined edges, everything from his coarse, calloused skin to his unstable and complex mental state.

He is bullets. A killer. He creates wounds, small but impactful, he watches the blood drip from bodies both figuratively and literally, and looks at the blood on his hands which is both there and not there, and wonders if he can ever wade through this sea of blood that slowly congregates below him, rising to his ankles, calves, knees, until he’s hip deep in it.

He is shrapnel. Ripped metal makes a screeching sound as everything burns around him, except the world still spins and the people still live and walk and breathe as they push him out of the way in their signature New York way. The metal has been screeching since _that day_ , the day the music died and was replaced with that _god awful_ sound.

He’s glad he’s found his way at least somewhat, and he’s glad it’s like this. A piece of him that was left behind when Ben died, but collected when May died and it connects him to his roots in a way so nostalgic it makes him feel like he was a kid again, when everything was so much more simple. When aliens were the thing of fairy-tales, when _Iron Man_ was just a poster on his wall and when Spiders were icky and just something Ben would squash with a slipper.

He had found his way back home, and sure, it’s not home home, but he has waded through the sea of blood and found land and he’s willing to call that home until he finds an acceptable substitute. The screeching sound has faded and replaced with the music again, and he learns that _the music never died, you just forgot about it._

After practice, he and his dance partner go back to the tower, to work on their piece. It’s their first ever time dancing together, although they’ve known each other for years, and they dance to their song, an unknown feeling blossoming in his chest when it gets to the slow parts, the _intimate_ parts, and yeah, he knows for a fact his makeshift family is spying on them with Friday, but he doesn’t seem to care; all he can focus on is the way her body moves, projecting grace, and decadence, and fragility all while staying true to her character: a strong, resilient woman, with aggressiveness and femininity dripping from her movements.

_I found a love, for me._

_Darlin’ just dive right in. Follow my lead._

_I found a girl, beautiful and sweet._

_Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me._

Solar flares. Soft lips.

That’s exactly what she is.

Bursts of heat, passion, energy cumulated in a spectacular occurrence. She disturbs the ionosphere, creates aurora’s, beautiful spectrums of light. She warms the world, _his_ world. Delicate, painted lips pressing into his own, causing his toes to tingle excitedly.

He remembers their first kiss. They had been outside, watching the stars on a picnic blanket in the vast outdoors area of the compound. A couple of drops fell from the sky, causing them both to look up, and soon it was pouring, _pissing down_ with rain. They had abandoned the blankets and got up, Peter grabbing her hand and twisting her towards his body, as Tony watched from the window, wondering when his kid got so suave. Her arms locked around his neck, his arms around her waist, and they started waltzing slowly, steadily, her head on his chest, dancing to the music of the rain, and their slow breaths. Tony smirked into his coffee and looked away when Michelle looked at Peter, kissing him slowly. She says it wasn’t half bad for a first kiss.

_Dancing in the dark, with you between my arms._

_Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song._

_When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath,_

_But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight._

-

Peter grips MJ's hand tightly. It’s funny, really. He’s seen his parents targeted, had the threat of abduction looming over him since he was a child, being the son of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts and all, but this is the scariest thing he’s ever faced. Butterflies flutter violently in his stomach, but his face can’t seem to do anything except smile.

The man between them gestures to him, and he takes out his little book from his suit jacket pocket, opens to the first page, and begins reading.

“When the God’s created human beings, according to mythology, They originally created them with four legs, four arms, and a head with two faces, which doesn’t sound at all scary,” the audience chuckles wetly, “Fearing their power, Zeus separated them into two separate beings, condemning them to a life searching one another.”

“We are all condemned to a life looking for each others soulmate. I wasn’t really looking, to be honest, too wrapped up in my future, my work, but I found you. I found you, and I wasn’t even looking. You are my soulmate, Michelle. You’re not just a piece of me, a fragment of my heart solidified like concrete, you are me entirely, you are my heart, my soul, my life, and without you there would be a gaping hole in my chest.”

He can hear Tony crying behind him. “I’ve uh, been told that we’re supposed to be making promises to each other,” the audience laughs, “Till death do us part and whatnot, but I don’t want to stand here and make promises to you, because to make a promise implies that I’m bound by a contract to do these things, which implies that I don’t want to do it. But I do! I want to be by your side, in sickness, in health, in pleasure,” he winks, Michelle laughs wetly cause even she’s been crying, “and in pain, till death do us part.”

“And... I desperately need you to take care of me, cause I’m a mess all the time,” everyone laughs, “and because, I can’t live without you. You make me so happy, Michelle, that I sometimes genuinely wonder if I’m on drugs,” more laughter, “I need you in my life, cause you are my best friend. My soulmate. And maybe we were condemned to live apart, but we found each other. And, according to Plato, homeboy,” he said, the attendants laughing once again while he threw up a peace sign, “‘When one of them meets with his other half, his actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in amazement of love and friendship and intimacy.”

“And, while I did say no promises, I assure you, since the moment I met you, I loved you, and from this moment on, every atom, every particle, every fibre of my being will love you. I’ll live for you, ill think for you, get up in the morning for you, breathe for you, until I’ve breathed my last breath.”

He looks into her eyes for a moment, watching the tears glisten like the flecks of gold in the sea of brown, before turning to Tony, who had moved his glasses to his head, wiping his eyes with a tissue. When he saw Peter looking, he gave him a thumbs up, which made him laugh.

The officiant gestured to Michelle, and she grabbed her matching book, and started reading, “Peter. I knew from the moment I met you, from our first conversation about dielectric polarisation, that you would be in my life for a long time. What I didn’t realise, however, is that you’d become my life, my heart, my home. Dating you, loving you, has been an adventure, and I’m so excited for our next one, building a family together.”

“I’m not really sure what to say to be honest, words don’t really seem like enough. I’m well aware I’m the luckiest woman on Earth, I don’t deserve you. I promise to always keep you on your toes with gruesome facts, I promise to always make your favourite sandwich, Delmar's number five with extra pickles, smushed down real flat. I promise to not let you set anything on fire, because if there’s one thing you had to take from your Aunt, it had to be her awful cooking skills, or lack thereof, no offense May,” she says to the woman smiling in the first row.

“We have adapted, we have conquered, we have loved and we’ve lost. And... I can’t bear to think that there’s a universe where we’re apart. There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t loved you with everything that I am since I met you. There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t been running around in my mind, hasn’t been a day where you haven’t left me breathless. And I hope you know that when I wake up every morning and say ‘I love you', it isn’t out of habit. It’s a reminder that it’s all you who I think about, all you who I care about, all you who I love.”

“You are the heart. I am the brain. We aren’t separate people anymore, we’re a functioning system. Without the brain, you die. Without the heart, you die. One without the other wouldn’t survive. And that’s why I promise to forever be with you, be by your side.”

The rings were exchanged.

All Peter could think about was how pretty Michelle looked in white.

-

At the reception, Peter sung a song for MJ.

It was the same sing they did their first ever duet together to.

_“Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know._

_She shares my dreams, I hope that someday, I’ll share her home._

_And I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets,_

_To carry love, to carry children of our own.”_

-

He woke up panting.

A thin layer of sweat had cumulated on his forehead, his hair in disarray. The sheets entangled him, and his breathing was laboured.

“Peter,” a voice said, soothingly, although it sounded a million miles away, “Peter, you need to breathe.”

He shook his head violently, “Dead. Dead. He’s dead.”

“He’s not dead, Petey. He’s still alive.”

“C-couldn’t save him. Not good enough.”

MJ clicked the lamp on and grabbed her phone from the bedside table, all while keeping a reassuring hand on Peter’s back. The phone rang, audible to Peter, but now audible to his now-wife as well, as she put it on speaker. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

_Click._

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered, and Peter felt a pang of guilt go up his already anxiety-ridden body.

“Hi, h-hi, Dad,” he said shakily.

This seemed to wake Tony up, “Hey Pete. You okay?”

Peter nodded fervently, ignoring the fact the only person who could see him was MJ, who knew that _he wasn’t fucking okay_. “Y-yeah, I’m good... just... nightmare.”

“Roo...”

“Can you talk about something please?”

Tony sighed, his voice dripping with love, “Of course, Bambi. So, I found out something really weird today. So, you know how Pepper is allergic to strawberries? Well, _apparently_ , she loves to strawberry pop tarts. She was eating one this morning and I swear, my heart jumped out of my skin. I was like, ‘What are you doing, you’re going to kill yourself’ and apparently,” he said the word in a disbelieving, yet _dramatic_ , tone, “They don’t have actual strawberries! Can you believe that, Pete. The woman I dare to call my wife, your mother, did that. And, AND! She said it in such a way that implied that _I_ was the crazy one. Like, excuse me, I’m not the one eating a slab of cardboard topped with pure sugar. _Mio Dio!_ ”

Tony talked until the only thing he could hear Peter’s soft snores through the phone. He bid Michelle goodnight, who returned the gesture as well.

That was the best sleep Peter had gotten in that week.

-

Pointe shoes lay discarded on his rug, fireplace alight in the December chill as he sits on an armchair, reading ‘One' by Sarah Crossan, just managing to balance the book and the sleeping baby swaddled in his arms. Michelle is baking cupcakes in the kitchen, because she promised Sam she’d get them to him before Christmas Eve, which happened to be tomorrow. Peter, fortunately, had been banished from the kitchen for the night after he managed to set a lovely pot of water on fire. Don’t ask.

“Daddy, look!”

He hears from across the room, and he looks up at his oldest child, five year old, Athena May, who was grinning.

“Look, look Daddy!”

And with a swift motion, she lifted herself onto the tops of her toes, as if she was on pointe.

“ATHENA!”

She promptly dropped back down.

“Sorry, Woo, but you can’t do that without pointe shoes, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“But you and mummy can do it!”

Peter smiled, and beckoned for her to come closer, which she did, sitting on his lap as he put his book face down, “That’s because mummy and daddy have had years of training, Woo Woo. You’ll get there eventually.”

She huffs, but smiles nonetheless.

Benji, the baby, stirs, and Peter shushes him. MJ emerges from the kitchen, sitting on the arm by Peter, and grabs his hand.

_“We are still kids but we’re so in love,_

_Fighting against all odds, I know we’ll be alright this time._

_Darling, just hold my hand, be my girl I’ll be your man,_

_I see my future in your eyes.”_

Soon, Athena and Benji were sound asleep, MJ holding Athena like she was a new-born again. “Merry Christmas, Woo Woo,” Peter whispered, planting a kiss to the top of her head. Benji stirred, and the pair chuckled softly, “And a very Merry Christmas to you too, Underoos.”

So yeah, maybe Peter is shrapnel. Maybe he is bullets. Maybe he’s made of destruction and hopelessness and grief. But Michelle is solar flares and soft lips. She is made of salvation, and hopefulness and life. And together, they made something truly beautiful, as if misfortune and contentment go hand in hand.

Cause together, they are _unstoppable_.

_I have faith in what I see,_

_Now, I know I have met an angel in person,_

_And she is perfect._

_I don’t deserve this._

_You look perfect tonight._

(fin)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my wonderful group chat who helped me figure out a name for peters daughter, it was leaning between Athena, Juno and Maria.
> 
> so, I feel like i should address the nicknames.
> 
> so, tony calls peter 'roo', which if you dont know, is a shortened version of underoos  
> peter also calls his kids underoos cause he has tonys sense of humour and no this is non negotiable.
> 
> 'woo woo' is the only one that i didnt take from canon, and that's cause its my nickname. my mother calls me this cause her mother used to call her that before she died, plus, it kinda works, cause in my household, im woo woo, my sister is lopsy lou, and my brother is boo boo, and maybe athena could be woo woo, and benji could be roo roo, like underoos!
> 
> have a lovely christmas everyone, and stay safe.   
> \- cheerio
> 
> ps. yes i used lots of quotes in the vows fite me


End file.
